Photograph
by screaming-poetically
Summary: She never liked Eureka anyway, so why does she miss it so much? FargoZoe.


**Pairing:** Fargo/Zoe  
**Title:** Photograph  
**Rating:** FRT  
**Summary:** She never liked Eureka that much anyway, so why does she miss it so much?  
**Warnings:** Mild language.  
**Disclaimer:** The names of all characters contained herein are the property of SciFi. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.

**Photograph**

New York City. What the fuck was so great about that place that her father could decide to move there on a moment's notice? Granted, Carter would've had to have a job arranged with the government before they left Eureka, but it felt so much like a moment that Zoe didn't even care. She could hazard a guess why, though. After the thing with Allison Blake fell through, her dad really hadn't been the same. She guessed that he had really liked her. Everybody knew that Allison ditched Jack Carter for Nathan Stark, and everybody felt pretty much the same about it; a kind of "what the fuck was she thinking?" attitude, because Nathan cared for nothing except his work and his pride.

Zoe didn't know what she was so upset for anyway. It wasn't as if Eureka had anything she wanted. She didn't exactly _fit in_ there. She wasn't Global material, or anything like that. Zoe Carter wasn't a genius with off the charts IQ results. It bothered the fuck out of her that she felt like a pariah when she usually didn't care what other people thought.

Sure, Eureka was pretty; Zoe would give the town that much. Nice scenery and all that. And, like when somebody was around her, never a dull moment. People sure were interesting – their genius led to quirks Zoe hadn't even known existed. Eccentric wasn't even the word. But NYC had people like that too, so why was she still musing about that think-tank community?

The answer, of course, lay with Fargo.

"Dammit, Fargo," she mumbled. "Look what you've done to me."

For the most part, Zoe could pretend that her life in Eureka didn't happen. No almost getting annihilated by her house, no Henry, no movie nights at Spencer's, no Jo with her obsession with firearms, no nothing. But everytime she looked at that photograph, she couldn't help but remember. The edges were frayed and the once-firm material that supported the image had gone soft with so much handling. Zoe knew that someday the photograph would yellow with age and maybe even disappear altogether, and then where would she be?

Everything about her relationship with Fargo was unusual. Not only because they were opposites, but for other reasons. The "total opposites" part, though, is what caught Zoe off guard the most. Everything about Fargo screamed "total dork." From the clothes he wore, to his glasses, to his blue suit that went out of style in the '80s but somehow he still managed to look good in, to his eagerness to impress Stark – and, sometimes, the things he did for her. Zoe was a felon, an outsider. Fargo knew the world of Eureka, the inner workings and what to say and how to say it. They were a secret, Zoe and Fargo.

The photograph was one Taggart had taken at one of Spencer's movie nights. She couldn't recall the movie – all that came to mind was Spencer saying it was coming out in a month and Jo sitting next to Tag. He had taken the picture when she and Fargo were unaware, too caught up in each other to even notice that a camera was even in the room. His arms were around her waist, gently clutching the fabric of the shirt she wore; Zoe was leaning close to Fargo, smiling softly, almost as if she was sharing a secret with him. Maybe she was. Whatever it was, she can't remember it now.

The day Zoe left Eureka, Taggart gave her the picture with four solemn words.

"Wolves mate for life."

She had no idea what that meant. Hell, she still doesn't. The only thing she knew was that the comment was so much like him, and that she'd miss him. Zoe felt in that moment that she'd grown closer to people here than her father had. Carter had wanted – needed, even loved, maybe – Allison Blake, and like the House of Usher, that had fallen until there was nothing left but memory. She took the photograph, though, because it was _Fargo_ and if anything their relationship was the best part of her stay in Eureka. Something that hurt, hurt worse than leaving, was the fact that he didn't come to say goodbye. When she told her dad as they drove past the town limits, Carter shrugged and kept on driving. She didn't mind, not really; she was the one who hadn't told anyone about her relationship with Fargo.

Well, just her father. Everyone but him. If she told him now, Zoe could imagine just how the conversation would go.

"_Zoe," he would say, "how long was this going on? Why didn't you tell me?"_

"_Couple of months, Dad. Everyone but you knew. And that's because you've never liked the choices I've made. Fargo, he was my choice. A good one. I didn't want to tell you and have you tell me how we wouldn't work, how we were too different, shit like that. Because it was my choice. Mine."_

"Well, shit," said Zoe.

She missed Fargo, and Fargo was in Eureka.

One thing Zoe Carter never did was cry, and she'd be damned if she'd cry over Douglas Fargo months after leaving him. That was just re-goddamn-diculous. Something she knew, though, was that if she'd had a choice she would've stayed.

_finis._


End file.
